


Other Things

by HariSlate



Series: Jealous? [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Canon - Book, Crowley is Sad, Jealous Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Pining, Post-Apocalypse, They're not together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 18:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19728955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HariSlate/pseuds/HariSlate
Summary: Aziraphale had been busy since the end of the Apocalypse. Crowley had just been scared.





	Other Things

A week post-Armagedon't, and Crowley did not know where he stood. He had not yet heard from Hell, the radio of his faux-original Bentley was free from demonic intervention, and he'd not seen flesh nor feather of the Angel.

He tried to think nothing of it. Before, years would go by without them hearing from each other. It was just the sudden silence; it rattled.

Aziraphale was fine. Of course he was. Heaven wouldn't try anything. Nothing so noisy anyway; were they to do anything, it would be more cloak and dagger. But Crowley was checking round every corner still. Hell had more of a taste for spectacle, when it came to crime and punishment.

He had stopped sleeping, afraid not so much of dreams but of futures. Blink, and the image of him strung up in front of the rotting masses might become more a reality.

Good job snakes didn't blink.

"Angel!" It was business hours, so the shop was bound to be closed; but Crowley found that locks only happened to other people, so the door opened readily. "I'm bored. Can I tempt you to a stroll?"

"Sorry, we're closed."

"Who are you, where's-"

"I said, we're closed. I was sure I locked the door..." The man was sharp, middle aged, his skin dark. Crowley didn't recognise him, didn't sense anything, but you never knew.

"Are you an archangel?"*

"What the fuck are you talking about? Get out or I'll call the police." He was stepping forward. The light from the shop window flashed against the lenses of his glasses, and Crowley couldn't see his eyes.

"Where's Aziraphale?" Crowley was stepping forward too, his tongue forking as his metaphorical hackles were raised. "What have you done with him?"

"Who? Ezra? As I said, the shop is closed." Crowley did not trust this guy, but for as long as he played human, there was nothing he could do.

"So sorry for the... misunderstanding," he grinned, his tongue flicking out for the slightest of seconds. "I am a friend of Ezra's, is he okay?"

"More than okay, I hope."

"Jon, dear," the tension that was lifted from hearing his angel's voice; Crowley would not admit even to himself, "What's the... oh, Crowley! How good to see you!" Aziraphale's clothes were lightly rumpled, his hair more a mess than usual.

"I thought we might go for a walk. I didn't realise you had company." His voice was maybe a little flat, and he cursed his man shaped body for its ability to blush.

"Yes, well, it is not polite to break into a man's home and shout up the stairs, whether he has 'company' or not."

"Jonathan, please," The Angel moved into the room, went to place a hand on the small of this _Jonathan_ 's back, decided against it. "Anthony is an old, old friend. We have fallen into habits that might seem impolite were it not for our shared past."

"Oh, so THIS is Anthony!" Crowley couldn't quite read his tone, but he did know when he was not wanted.

"I see you are both busy, I'll just be off. I don't like to interrupt."

"Crowley, please," But Crowley then did not so much as wish to see the look on his angel's face. He shot one last malevolent grin at Jonathan the human-'til-proven-otherwise, and walked from the shop. There was nobody so invested as to follow him. Aziraphale had clearly far more interesting things to do.

"He didn't even apologise. And I could smell the alcohol from the back room."

"My dear, please. He's a very good friend."

"An old flame?"

\--

Of course, Crowley was not jealous. That would be absurd. Yes, jealousy was a sin, but it wasn't his job to do such tawdry sinning. He was meant to make _others _jealous, such as that human.__

__He threw a hunk of stale bread at a duck, and revived it when it sank. That was technically Aziraphale's job, but he insisted that it was all part of the Arrangement. He could still hold up the Arrangement._ _

__For as long as Aziraphale would entertain it._ _

__No, he was not jealous, or lonely, or anything else so human as that. But that Aziraphale was so... engaged, so soon after the Napocalypse, when Crowley was still scared to walk round a corner. It just hit home that they were never really friends, that their Arrangement was just that. And there was nothing wrong with that, that had been the point._ _

__Or that's what he'd always said._ _

__\--_ _

__*Crowley would defend this later by mumbling about anxiety and alcohol._ _


End file.
